Adventures of Guzma & the 'Cave Troll'
by OKFandom
Summary: Join Guzma and Golisopod as they journey to Sinnoh, meet a Bug Dragon, free a Cave Troll, battle Elite Four members, deal with Family Drama, and still somehow have time to catch a few bugs before the cops catch up. Cyrus just hopes he can stay sane through it all. Post Game. AU/AR. HarlockShipping; Guzma/Cyrus This version gets to Chapter 7. To read move visit AO3 [/works/9328184/]
1. Chapter 1

This story has grown exponentially and it is beautiful~ Check us out on Tumblr [url: ok-fandom] for posting and live write alerts; or read ahead on AO3 [works/9328184/]!

 _Guzma goes off in search of a supposed legendary bug type Pokémon! Of course, finding it's the hard part…especially when he runs into a 'ghost' who isn't particularly fond of his presence._

G: [string of expletives]  
C: "Gtfo my cave"  
G: [flips off C]  
The end

* * *

The most prevalent thought going through the former Team Skull leader's head was how _unnecessarily_ cold it was. Everything was fucking COLD, and it pissed him off! If he'd realized it was going to be so damn cold in Sinnoh, he might have actually hesitated a bit before jumping headfirst into a trip here unprepared – or coming at all...

Whoever came up with the rumor that Hala was a softie had been lying through their teeth. Maybe with _actual_ kids, yeah. But adults? Not a chance. Normally this would sit fine with the former Skull Leader – he didn't get his title just by running his mouth – but being put through an adult's training while still being _treated_ like a child was more than a little grating.

The only real reprieve from the constant belittlement and exhaustive training was on the rare occasion when he managed to meet up with some of the old team at the Hau'oli cafe for some tapu cocoa. It was at one of these get togethers with his old team members that he finally broke.

"I'm sick of this shit, yo!" A heavy handed fist slammed on the table, startling the other patrons enjoying their drinks nearby and gaining the group significantly more dirty looks than usual. The white-haired man sighed roughly before continuing at a lower volume. "Gettin' real fed up with Hala's shit. The guy'll have me move mountains, then complain 'bout the rubble like it means I ain't done nothin' to begin with!"

The former grunts seemed to calm down with their former boss' explanation, murmuring their agreement and condolences as he slumped over his tapu cocoa. Plumeria, on the other hand, snorted at the outburst before rummaging through her bag. A small pile of travel brochures were unceremoniously dumped on the table seconds later. "'Bout time you fessed up, dweeb."

Guzma ignored the brochures past a cursory glance in favor of downing more of his drink. The grunts, meanwhile, had taken to them immediately, oohing and awing over the different locales. He was already preparing a mental list of all the reasons he _wasn't_ gonna go traipsing around some foreign region, when one of the grunt's comments caught his attention.

"Yo, check out Sinnoh's! There's supposed to be some big-ass centipede Pokémon over there, why'd they leave it outta the brochure?!"

"Whoa whoa whoa, bug? Beg pardon? _Bug_ pardon? Whatchu talkin' about here?" Guzma's head snapped up from looking into his drink to stare. While the affronted grunt continued to comb through the brochure, the other two chimed in.

"Yeah yeah, I think I remember you tellin' us about it before, Grunt! Some kinda legendary, right?" Grunt B piped up, nearly knocking over his drink when he went to grab for the brochure. Grunt A made a squawking noise and held it out of reach, still reading it, accidentally starting to squish Grunt C in the process. Plumeria snatched the brochure herself before a scene could get started, handing it over to Guzma.

"Sinnoh, huh?" Flicking through the glossy pamphlet didn't show much of anything too amazing to Guzma. "Yo, you were born there, weren'tcha? What's the place like?"

"Uhh, kinda not much t'say 'bout it? I only really saw Canalave before jumpin' onna ship to out here." Grunt A said, wincing when Grunt C elbowed him for the near-squishing. "There's s'posed ta be a lotta bugs out in Eterna Forest too, lotta Wurmple and Combee an' shit like that."

Guzma's eyes practically turned into buginium crystals at Grunt A's words. He slapped his hands on the table again after tossing the brochure back, taking care not to put as much force into it this time. "Yo, I'm fuckin' sold!"

After that, it hadn't taken long for Guzma to toss all he owned in a single backpack, hand off most of his team to Plumeria and the grunts and say ALOLA! to Alola. Hala hadn't even tried to stop him as he left, just giving the younger man a knowing smile and a nod when he heard Guzma was headed off. _Talk about ruining a smug mood._

In retrospect, diving ass-first into the journey hadn't been his best idea, the thought solidified when he felt the cold begin seeping into his bones. Sinnoh was cold as _fuck_. Guzma had managed to shiver his way into the closest building hoping for some warmth, just to step into a wall of air conditioning.

"Hey there! New to the region?" A man at the counter of the convenience store asked, a wide, too-cheerful smile on his face. "Got here at a good time! The Kricketune down on Route 214 always make their best music on these summer nights."

Guzma gave the jolly man a blank look. "...the _fuck_ you mean, _summer_?"

The poor cashier gave a surprised jump at the profanity, but continued on with a heartfelt chuckle at the question. "Why, Summer is summer, of course. It's gotten so warm out I've had to turn on the air conditioning. The weatherman predicted this year to be the warmest in history!"

Guzma felt a part of his soul die with those words, but that might've just been it freezing over too. The man at the counter, his nametag obscured by some of the merchandise, leaned towards him looking concerned. "Are you alright, sir? You're shivering up a storm. We have basic cold medicine in the first aid kit if you need any."

"Wh- nah! I'm f-fine, totally." A quick look around the store showed it was only selling souvenirs and regular trainer gear, much to the former boss' dismay. "Uh, there anywhere 'round here I can get a coat or some shit?"

The cashier leapt into action at the question, hefting a large box out from under the counter. "We don't keep coats out of season, but I'm sure I saw one or two in the lost and found here. We rarely have anyone come back for anything, so feel free to help yourself!" Guzma slipped off his backpack, plopping it on the floor by the counter before examining the contents of the box.

Ten minutes, an atrocious outfit, and a free soda pop later, Guzma could feel the shivers beginning to abate somewhat. To his credit, the cashier didn't comment on the bug specialist's mismatched attempt at warmth, only bidding him a friendly farewell as he trudged back out of the store.

The hodgepodge conglomeration of clothing managed to turn more than a few heads once Guzma was out of the building and stomping down the road, but no one bothered to comment on it, or give a second look after he'd passed. Whether they were trying to avoid him, or just stay out of his business, Guzma couldn't tell. He was just glad that no one tried to say anything about it, 'cause he was pretty sure even when he could barely move his arms like this, he'd still find a way to deck the first person to start laughing at him. A few death threats directed towards the Grunt who stupidly sent him out here without any mention of the weather crossed his mind, and he kept himself occupied with ideas of dismemberment to distract him from the cold he could still feel seeping through the cracks in his puffy coat of armor. That kid was going _down_ when he got back.

It took a minimum of twenty minutes before someone mentioned his outfit, and even then it was only to suggest catching a Ponyta to help stay warm. Not usually one to catch anything but bug types, it was a good show of how cold it felt that Guzma actually considered the suggestion. Considered and _went along_ with it. He all but bolted when told they could be found just south of the city – or, as much as he could given his current ensemble. Route 214 was easy enough to find, but the Ponyta sure weren't, and Guzma's patience was about to become just as elusive when one finally turned up.

"Ha! There ya are!" The fire type didn't even flinch at the loud exclamation, watching Guzma clumsily hop over one of the many, _many_ fences along the route. A curse left the ex-team leader as he stumbled and almost ended up on his face before he steadied himself. _Damn this weather. And these stupid fences, too!_

The Ponyta was unimpressed.

Focus clearer than ever now that his objective was within reach, Guzma was quick to call out Golisopod. He was also, unfortunately, quick to fall flat on his ass when he tried to assume his usual squatting position. Heavy footsteps indicated the large bug type had ignored the Ponyta to run back to him. Instead of being helped up as expected, though, the specialist found himself ensconced in shivering exoskeleton.

"Oof– hey! What is it, ya big baby?"

Golisopod gave a loud whine and clung tighter to his trainer, his shivers enough to make them both vibrate. Guzma looked over where the Ponyta had been, and groaned in frustration as he caught sight of it prancing by them as if they were just another fence on the side of the road. The bug's upset chirring brought his attention back to the matter at hand.

"…aw, don't tell me that thick shell a' yours ain't keepin' ya warm!" Guzma attempted to push it away, drawing increasingly upset noises from the Hard Scale Pokémon. A small arm nabbed the obnoxiously floral-print scarf from around Guzma's neck before he could get free, sending a burst of cold air into his otherwise impenetrable coat armor. It chirred angrily at him while drawing the scarf close, doing its level best to put it on despite its lack of familiarity with the winter accessory. Guzma heaved a long sigh, amazed he couldn't see his breath in the cold air.

"Alright, alright, fiiine, let's go getcha bundled up too, ya wuss." Struggling with his constricting clothing and the bug type who refused to stop clinging to him, Guzma took a few tries to finally get up on his feet and return Golisopod in order to head back to town. Maybe that shopkeep had something Golisopod could wear? The Alolan trainer recalled a few other bits of winter wear he'd not donned himself still being in the box, and a new realization that he didn't yet know where he needed to go next anyway. Guess it was a good thing they had to head back.

 _TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

Golisopod is spoiled, Ribbons are cool, and WTF is an HM?

 _"damn Sinnohites." -Guzma_

* * *

He'd only seen it twice so far, and Guzma was already starting to get annoyed with the cashier's ever-present smile. Who the hell was that consistently happy? Especially working in _retail_ , yeesh.

Luckily for Golisopod, Guzma hadn't been forced to wear the biggest items in the Lost & Found box. The cashier had happily (surprise, surprise) assisted them in finding suitable items in the box to fit on his large-carapaced bug Pokémon. The white-haired man laughed as his Pokémon all but burrowed into the warm clothes, muffled clicks emitting from behind the fabric.

"Uhh, hey, thanks or whatever for helpin' us." Guzma managed to get out while rummaging through the box. "A… _pal_ of ours told us 'bout some hugeass centipede Pokémon that's supposed ta live out here. Didn't think ta mention it was gonna be cold as balls, though."

"Wellll…" The man paused for a moment, face contorting in thought. "…hrrrm. I can't say I've seen anything like that recently. Though, I'm sure the ruins down Route 214 could certainly have all manner of creepy crawlies lurking about."

"What is it with shit bein' on Route 214?" Guzma muttered under his breath. The cashier looked like he was about to ask him to repeat, so he cut him off beforehand. "WELL! Ya ready ta go now, big guy?"

Golisopod gave a pleased chirr in response, happy to be fully clothed in the mismatched winter wear. The cashier gave him a friendly pet, eliciting more pleased sounds, and produced a poffin, from where Guzma didn't know, for the bug type. It snatched the offering right up after a cursory sniff.

"Geez, ya want some ribbons too or somethin'?" The former Skull Leader joked, only to regret it immediately as he saw the cashier perk up at the words.

"We _do_ have a small selection of ribbon styles, if you're interested." The man's name tag was missing, now, though the pin for it remained securely on his shirt. "Though, we only have pink left in stock, I'm afraid."

A blunt "no thanks" was about to leave his mouth when Golisopod gave a series of excited clicks in response. It had seen the ribbons. The ribbons were Cool. It turned the full power of its cross-shaped eyes onto Guzma, as if able to hypnotize him into the idea without even being able to learn Hypnosis. Unfortunately for the trainer, he remained susceptible nonetheless. He gave a heavy sigh.

"How much?"

Golisopod chirred happily.

Guzma grumbled, frown on his face, as the two left the store shortly after Golisopod had been decked out in at least three new ribbons in addition to a lost and found jacket and ski pants assortment. "Tch, no Team Skull Pokémon outta be wearin' ribbons." He conveniently denied to think about the fact his team had been disbanded, he was _still_ the hardest guy around! Team Skull or no.

They caught the attention of a few people as they headed back to the route, most of them focused on the tall bug Pokémon, who stood up even taller at realizing this and managed to strut a bit. _Man_ , it was having too much fun with this. Anyone who tried to approach, however, got cut off by the trainer's sharp glare from underneath his cloth prison.

They decided to bypass trying to catch a Ponyta again – if Guzma had to spend any more time skulking around those fences, he was gonna scream. The route was easy enough to navigate, despite said fences, and the two of them soon saw a set of stone stairs in the distance.

"Yo, that it?"

Golisopod let out a curious chirr at the question, not knowing the answer, either. It seemed to answer itself once they got closer. Guzma might not know much about ruins, but he at least knew that modern, fancy buildings don't get built on them. "Nevermind that shit, then."

Just as he was considering retracing his steps, a familiar voice spoke up cheerfully. "Hello!"

"Wh- you again?!" Guzma startled at the sudden reappearance of the cashier from earlier, this time wearing…fishing gear? "Yo, weren't you just in Veilstone?"

"Hmm, not since spring." The happy man replied with slight consideration of the question. "You're from Veilstone, then?"

"Uhh, nah, but–" He shook his head, cutting himself off. This was already weird enough. "Some guy up there told us there're some ruins out here. You know anythin' 'bout that?"

"Hrrm. Ruins?" The _same_ look of thought as the cashier's crossed the fisherman's face, now with added chin-stroking. "We've got a lot of them here in Sinnoh. I think there is an old path near the fences that would take you to the closest one, but I've never gone down there myself. Lake Valor's more my style! It's recovered so wonderfully since getting blown up by that Team Galactic-"

The younger man and his Pokémon were already on the move before he could finish, backtracking as fast as they could. "Uhhyeahthanks, yo! Have fun at that lake or whatever!"

If the uncannily familiar fisherman said anything more, it was lost to Guzma as he tromped back through the tall grass. He only slowed down once he got to a strange yellow tree – a Honey Tree, Grunt A called it? Whatever it was, the fences started with it. They kept close to the treeline this time, pointedly ignoring the now _numerous_ Ponyta milling about. Golisopod thwacked him on the arm as it noticed a small, run-down little path. Guzma had overlooked it entirely.

"Yo, nice catch! But watch those claws a' yours." He rubbed at the offended arm, mainly for show since the coats had cushioned most of the blow. Golisopod clicked in acknowledgment, but made no promises.

The path itself widened up a bit past the entrance, but the condition deteriorated exponentially. It looked like no one had so much as set foot there in _years_! Both of the Alola natives had to watch their footing as they traversed the mess of vines and other flora along the way, inevitably getting tripped up anyway.

More than once Golisopod had to help it's trainer back on his feet after a big tumble. The layers of coats being too hindering for the bug-man to get up on his own. Leaving him embarrassed and glad no one else could see him flailing on his back like a flipped Wimpod. Luckily for him, Golisopod wasn't going to crack any jokes. It knew the feeling too well itself.

They were met with a large swath of tall grass at the end of the path, further enforcing the idea of isolation. Or, it would've if it weren't for the jolly voice they heard ring out as they began wading through it. Guzma's eyes flicked to the direction the sound was coming from. His jaw dropped and he flailed his arms as best as his layers allowed. "SERIOUSLY?"

It was the cashier man _again_ , this time dressed like an experienced hiker.

"Oh, hello!" The man spoke boisterously and waved at the two foreigners. "Don't get many folks back here. How are you today?"

"…aight, listen yo," Guzma took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I dunno why y'all look the same, but some cashier in Veil-wherever and a fisher somewhere back there told me there're some ruins out here. And oh yeah, cold as _fuck_ is how I am."

"Well, that's not so great. There should've been some Ponyta out thataways if you needed some warmth!" At the murderous look the comment got him, the man scurried to switch subjects. "But, uh, they told you right, then! About the ruins, I mean. Hope you have a Pokémon that knows the HM move Rock Climb, though. That slope is too difficult to climb, otherwise!"

"...I'm sorry, what? The hell's an HM move?" Guzma gave the hiker a stink-eye before turning his gaze on the approaching slope. If a Pokémon was needed for this, then… "You got a Ride Pager?"

"A…what now? What would you need a pager for?" The head-tilt accompanying the question was just the icing on the cake.

Guzma took a _deep_ breath to try and keep from completely going off on this guy. With the day he's had so far though, he was ready to say fuck it and punch the nearest thing as hard as he could. "A pager. To page. A Pokemon. To cLIMB THE FUCKING WALL!"

"But why would you need to page a Pokémon? Can't you just use one of your own?"

"That's not how it–!" He stopped. As much as he loathed to admit it, those self-control exercises that Hala had drilled him on had stuck with him. Deep breaths, remove yourself from the situation – fucking _shit_ , he could practically _hear_ the old man from here. He groaned and threw his arms up in resignation, pushing onwards past the strange hiker. "Whatever! I'll figure out _somethin'_!"

"Well, good luck to you!" The hiker smiled and waved at Guzma's retreating form, showing no notice to the Alolan's wordless cry of rage that followed.

 _TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

Celebratory Guzma! Man and Bug ignore the writing cause _pff who READS? NOBODY READS THE MANUAL!_ and head on into the cave. Scene cut to spoopy space groucho in the Distortion World noticing another wingding coming into his kingdom of isolation.

 _"ASSUME THE POSITION GOLISOPOD!"  
Golisopod: [flings Guzma through the air]_  
 _Guz: WRONG POSITION!_  
 _Weird: ...does this make Cyrus Kuzco?_

* * *

If someone tried to claim "determination" wasn't Guzma's middle name, he would fucking fight them for it. After the pointless and excessively _freezing_ hoops he'd been jumping through since his arrival to this godforsaken, frigid wasteland of a region, he deserved it.

Golisopod had perked way up after the addition of his own hodgepodge winter gear, and Guzma wasn't ignorant of the fact his Pokémon was playing in the tall grass, like a goddamned Vulpix in fresh snow, when he thought his trainer wasn't looking. However, seeing Golisopod capable of moving much more freely than himself, even with the addition of coats, gave Guzma an idea.

To say that the three attempts thus far to scale the rocky ledge had been unsuccessful would be an understatement. He'd only managed to get a few feet up the slope before a tag team of gravity and loose rock dethroned him from his progress, sending him flat on his ass at the bottom again. The cloth armor restricting his mobility certainly didn't help, even if the gloves were starting to look worse than a Mimikyu's attempt at cosplay, shredded in some areas due to the sharp rocks. The hiker…cashier-fisherman, _whoever_ was right about the slope being too rough to climb without assistance. So, since Golisopod was oh-so-content frolicking like a baby Pokémon…

"Yo, big guy!" The bug type looked over at the shout, quickly assuming an imitation of a downed Pidgey as it realized its trainer was looking. "Ya ain't foolin' nobody with that act. Now c'mere for a sec, I got an idea."

After a few more moments of the charade, Golisopod begrudgingly stood and ambled over to him. It wanted more attention, like back at the store! Or more beans. Some more of those tasty poffin snacks the cashier had given him would be great, too. Guzma rolled his eyes at the unhappy chitters, pushing its head back when it lightly headbutted him. "Ya ain't gettin' more food just yet, neither! Ya just ate!" Golisopod gave a dissatisfied growl and pouted in response.

" _Any_ way," Guzma continued, pointedly ignoring his spoiled bug as he fixed his fraying gloves to minimize contact with the cold air, "I think I can get a hold a' the ledge if I can jump high enough, so couldja gimme a boost?"

Golisopod tilted its head, as if considering. After a long moment, Guzma gave a sigh. "I'll give ya some beans once we're up there, ya big baby."

That seemed to do the trick. The bug's plus-shaped eyes lit up at the promise of more food, assuming position at the base of the slope. Its larger, shelled hands locked together as Guzma followed, a tentative foot placed on them once ready.

"Aight, now on three, ya gotta lift me up so I can jump up the slope." Golisopod clicked in understanding. Its goal was in sight. It could taste the beans already. "One, two…thr–!"

Being flung through the air wasn't new to Guzma, especially not after trying to talk some sense into Lusamine back in Ultra Space. Being flung by his own bug certainly was a change of pace, as was the extra cushioning provided by the many layers – aside from his face, he barely felt the impact! He managed to latch onto the slope at the last second, luckily, as his protection against the cold saw fit to have him start rolling back down again. A few flailing kicks and grabs later, he was finally pulling himself up onto the ledge. He debated between staying there on the ground for a moment or flipping off Golisopod, who he could _hear_ tittering with amusement back at the bottom, before compromising.

"You ain't gettin' no beans after _that_ stunt!" Guzma called back down to it from his spot, causing the stifled laughing to quickly turn into unhappy whines. It was using the baby-doll eyes again. He groaned and let his head fall back, rolling onto his side and standing up after a few moments. A quick return to, and release from, its pokéball found the hard shell Pokémon up on even ground with him once more. Its gloomy, childish moping cleared up the instant its trainer produced a bean from the depths of his coats, having to draw a hand inside the sleeves just to get to them. Guzma shook his head and laughed at his Pokémon's antics, turning to observe the area.

…if someone honestly expected to go diving off of that pier when they built it, they were more mental than even _Lusamine_ . It was a cool idea, sure – but in _freezing-cold 60 degree temperatures_? Fuck that. It _did_ look to be the fastest way to get down to lake-level, though, which would make it easier to get to the small strip jutting into the lake at the bottom. A cave entrance, too angular to be natural, sat prominently against the rock. Typically-rebellious attitude tempered by the thought of freezing into a Guzmacicle led him to skirting around the rim of the lake, instead.

'Skirting' was thought loosely, as only the biggest coward in the books would think this wide path was frightening. A layer of ice would've made it far more dangerous to travel, and Guzma was thankful that, even though _he_ felt like it was freezing, it actually wasn't. Having to go through piles of snow was most certainly _not_ on his agenda.

The bug-trainer focused on his steps, having to hunch over more than usual to see past his coat layers, which remained poofed out against all odds. Because of this, he failed to notice how close he was to his destination until a clawed hand appeared at the corner of his vision, loud clicks accompanying it. Guzma startled as he realized it was pointing directly at the cave, which they were now stationed over.

"Okay! We're gonna do this _nice_ an' slow this time, got it?" Guzma clapped, glaring at Golisopod. The bug in question gave an innocent and questioning series of clicks, placing a claw at its mouth in a way Plumeria had done so often back at Po Town when she was faking innocence or stupidity.

Guzma scoffed at the action and turned around, starting to lower himself down the slope, only for a two clawed fist to collide with him sending him tumbling over the ledge. The…luckily _short_ tumble found him crashing headfirst onto the isolated landmass below. It was at this point, while pondering if his _neck_ could have snapped by such a fall, that he remembered how Plums always ended her charade. "Goddamn stupid- YOU'RE S'POSE TO HOLD BACK ON THE PUNCH!"

Golisopod gave a boisterous buggy laugh. Plumeria's 'punch-line' was always his favorite joke. Especially when it was on Guzma. Fucking _traitor_. The chortling died down as it realized it now needed to follow suit. It looked to Guzma in confusion, not understanding why it hadn't been called back to its ball yet.

"Nuh-uh, ya gotta do it yourself this time!" A wail of complaint. "Hey, ya loved seein' _me_ do it, so now it's your turn! C'mon down, ya jerk."

The bug hesitated for a moment, eyes darting around as if trying to figure how to get down the cliff before it came to a _brilliant_ conclusion.

"Tch, ain't no way down that direction!" Guzma called up at his spoiled Pokemon as it turned around, walking away from the edge of the small cliff. When no response was gained, the ex-team leader raised a brow. Golisopod may have been spoiled, but it had never just walked away be-

Before Guzma could even finish processing his own thoughts, a loud battle cry was heard, followed by rapid, heavy footfalls leading up to the over six-foot-tall bug-type launching itself over the edge of the cliff. Right…towards…him… " _Shit–_ "

The resulting crash was strong enough to ripple the surrounding lake, a miniature plume of dirt and dust momentarily clouding the air. Having stuck the landing, Golisopod gave a victory cheer with all six arms waving in the air. The lack of backup cheering, or at least another treat, paused its celebration. The sudden, harsh squirming of the body under it managed to throw it off long enough for the ex-Skull Leader to escape, kicking one of its large legs in retribution as he did so.

Guzma stumbled to a standing position, dusting off the dirt and retrieving his hat from where it had been knocked off. He fixed the bug with his best, patented Nanu Look Of Disapproval™ before speaking.

"No more beans for the rest of the day." The dramatic look of despair on the bug's face was nearly enough to get Guzma to break the facade laughing, causing him to turn and start walking towards the cave entrance. Golisopod's loud, whining chirrs followed him close behind. "Nuhhhh- _uh_ ! No! You ain't usin' those cute lil bug eyes on me _this_ time!" More whining. "Yeah, well, try not ta nearly break my neck as often! _Maybe_ I'll reconsider!"

A large wall of writing met the two as they entered, the stone too worn to read in most spots. Shit, this place _was_ ancient – a fact that sent a jolt of thrill through Guzma, knowing he was one step closer to the legendary Centipede Mcfuckyouup he'd heard so much about. A muffled woop rang out from him as he charged further in, Golisopod keeping pace with his sudden change in mood. The writing remained unread by either.

xXx

Loitering around the area bridging the two worlds had become a sort of past-time to the former Galactic Leader, observing how reality melded together at its weakest point. He's unsure of the amount of time he'd spent there in his current session – time was not immune to the Distortion, bending and bleeding away – but, at the very least, he could say that no new bodies had turned up in the cave on the other side. It had felt like quite some time since the last fool had wandered in, woefully unprepared for the journey.

His Pokémon had long since returned to their pokéballs for the time being, unable to withstand the stress of the Distortion World for extended periods, and who was he to force that on them? They sought solace where they knew it would be found, much like he had. Giratina had also retired somewhere, it seemed, possibly to sleep. Consequently, he was left alone in the silence permeating the dimension.

…that is, until the sound of shouting broke it. It seems there _would_ be a new body in the cave today.

 _TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

Guzma ain't a very lucky bug boi. Should've brought a lucky egg! And fuckin dramatic-ass " _I want to destroy the world_ " Cyrus finally comes out of hiding to talk to a gang leader who loves bugs

* * *

Guzma was losing his mind. That had to be it. The ex-Skull Leader couldn't come up with any more of a reasonable explanation than that. What else would explain the fact that he had passed through the same room _consecutively_ at least five times now, without entering another in between? He'd even left one of his gloves in the center of the room, just to be certain. And, sure enough! _Same damn room_.

Golisopod had started to pick up on its trainer's confusion a few… _rooms_ back, having previously been occupied with hopping along the multitudes of small boulders lining the space. Now the large bug-type was paying a bit more attention to the rooms, it could tell there was something off about them too. It didn't even remember to bug Guzma for more beans.

"…don't tell me we're fuckin' lost." Guzma said, at last. Twenty times they'd passed through a doorway– _twenty_ Arceus-damned times, but they were _still_ in the same room.

The Pokémon inhabiting the place had only grown more aggravating than ominous along the way. Who knew Sinnoh would have problems with Zubat, too? The white-haired man had half a mind to have Golisopod start using them as target practice for Razor Shell, as it was certainly a bit too late to work on his First Impression. The two of them traipsing around in ridiculous, non-matching winter wear ruined any intimidation factor they _could've_ had, anyway.

Feeling the act was pointless, but having nothing else to do beside fight more Zubat, the duo traipsed through yet _another_ doorway. Nothing new about it, practically identical to the ones they'd entered what felt like a hundred times before – only to be shocked and amazed that it did NOT lead back into the same room!

"Holy fuck…" Guzma didn't think it was possible to be SO amazed just from walking through a doorway, but here he was! The sudden change in location managed to perk his mood up dramatically, despite being such a silly little thing. "Oh yeah! Who's yer boy now! That's right! No fuckin' cave is gonna keep ME trapped!" He raised his hand, gaining an enthusiastic high-five from his best bug bro before strutting up to a random doorway in this new room. Things were looking up!

The smug grin was wiped from his face faster than a Wimpod on the run as they entered. It was the _first damn room again_. Golisopod gave a nervous chirr as it realized this too, and took two _big_ steps away from his trainer before Guzma finally went off, flailing and screaming, punching and kicking all the _stupid_ rocks in the _stupid_ cave for lack of anything else to take his anger out on in this STUPID FUCKING CAVE but the fucking cave itself!

"Were you separated from your babysitter?" An almost monotone, but definitely stuck-up voice cut through Guzma's tantrum, giving pause to his thrashing long enough for him to look up and glare at the palest motherfucker he'd ever seen.

"Th' fuck you want?" The Alolan native was breathing heavily by then, voice making its way out of the cloth prison at half of its normal force. He was _not_ willing to deal with whatever advanced level of assetry this…apparently eyebrowless newcomer was about to bring, even if he did look different from the cashier-fisher-hiker- _whatever_ man.

"I would like to know why there's a large child having a meltdown in the middle of my cave." _Man_ , barely a minute into meeting the guy and Guzma already couldn't stand him.

"'SCUSE me? Who you callin' a kid?" Guzma puffed out his chest, attempting the confident swagger he'd developed over the years despite the constraints of his outfit. "What you lookin' at is destruction in human form, yo! It's ya boy, Guzma! So y'all best not be talkin' bout ME."

"My mistake, I must be thinking of the…other…person running about, dressed like a multi-colored marshmallow."

"Alright, that's it!" He did _not_ have to deal with this guy, so he wouldn't. "Yo, Golisopod! Let's give this fool a nice First Impression!"

The bug type clicked in acknowledgement and readied its signature attack. The stranger could only raise – oh wow, he _did_ have eyebrows – an eyebrow as the move proceeded to do…absolutely nothing. Not even a flinch.

"…it's a bit too late for that, it seems. Unless this is some childish game you've made up, too?"

"Aight, fine, I'll do it myself–" Guzma didn't even bother replying as he marched up to him, dead-set on at least putting a shiner on the guy. Instead of a solid hit, though, he only felt a strange, cold shiver ripple over him as his fist passed _through_ the guy instead. The momentum carried him into the wall just beyond, which he _did_ make contact with.

"W-what the hell?" He fought to keep the pain out of his voice, surreptitiously attempting to apply pressure to the now-wounded hand. Thick glove or no, that still hurt like a bitch! "What are you, a fuckin' ghost or somethin'?"

"Hmm, a ghost in a graveyard. How quaint." The comment was quiet, the man muttering before returning his attention to Guzma. _What a prick_. "What's the matter? Are you afraid of ghosts?"

"I ain't scared a' no ghosts, yo!"

"Not even the Haunter behind you?" The monotone of the mystery man's voice could hardly be considered joking, to Guzma. The former gang leader most certainly did _not_ startle at the question, nor did he spin around just to find empty air instead of a ghost-type. Or was it? Shit, this is why he never fucked around in Acerola's trial site. Fuck ghosts.

"Regardless of your own personal phobias," the man continued, despite Guzma's insistence that he is _not_ scared, "Giratina isn't going to be particularly impressed if you do manage to wreak havoc in its tomb."

Guzma rolled his eyes, growling. Who did this guy think he was?! "Like I give a shit what ya boss or– whatever thinks a' me. I'm here for the giant centipede!"

If it were even possible, the man looked even more nonplussed at his words. He gave a heavy sigh before continuing. "Giratina _is_ the centipede. Do you truly think you're the first person foolish enough to try capturing it?"

"Huh? Pff, I ain't gon' catch it. Just was hopin' ta see it! Ain't never seen a centipede big as they say this'un is!" Guzma's eyes took on an excited glint at the prospect of finding a bug of such magnitude. A legendary, too! "'Sides, I already got ma boy, Golisopod! Ain't no other bug could replace him." His Golisopod preened at the comment, standing a little taller.

If the mystery man's eyebrows weren't hiding out so close to his eyes already, they would be furrowed in annoyance by now. He seemed to think for a moment, then turned, walking through the door Guzma had entered the room from. "Do as you must. It's unlikely that you'll be able to make it past the third pillar within thirty rooms, anyhow."

"Wait, we're s'posed ta count rooms? That's stupid!" Guzma's outburst, however, was met with silence. Without thinking, he ran after the man, pausing in the doorway. "Wh- hey! You ain't gettin' away that– easy…"

He groaned as he was faced with the same room _again_ , Golisopod looking over at the exit he'd gone through in concern. When Guzma turned at the feeling of a tug on his coat, though, Golisopod was…right behind him? His bug was doubled? He stumbled back into it, almost losing his balance altogether.

"I'd advise you to not stand in the archways. Liminal spaces are especially susceptible to distortion." The man's voice sounded without his appearance this time, if fainter than before. _Great, he can piss me off when he's not even HERE!_

"I'd advise _you_ to stop being a cryptic asshole!" The white-haired man yelled back, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "What'd ya mean by that 'thirty rooms' shit?! The hell are ya even, a fuckin' cave troll?!"

More silence. Golisopod chirred sympathetically as it patted its trainer's head, the man grumbling from under the tacky, flower-patterned scarf. "…Fuck this cave."

 _TBC_


	5. Chapter 5

Day Hour ? in the Cave of the Obnoxious Ghost Man! Time to eat some Poké Beans and take a nap, yo!

 _Just thought I outta let y'all know, posting may be fast now, but will slow down to once a week when it catches up to where we've reached on the AO3 version._

* * *

The man – Guzma, he'd called himself? – still hadn't left the cave. If Cyrus could bring himself to feel pity, he was sure he would feel some towards the other. He'd gotten lost enough times in the Distortion World to know the inexplicable confusion caused by it. As it stood, however, he more felt irritation than the nothing he would prefer. Even with his sense of time… _distorted_ as it was, it had surely been hours by now. The increasing number of rests the man was taking only added to the notion; what the fool lacked in brains, he made up for in determination. It would get him killed, that much Cyrus was sure of.

Guzma had managed to get Cyrus to tell him his name in return, somewhere along the line. Something about it 'only being fair,' since he'd already blurted his own name at the former Galactic leader. Although plenty aware that the claim did not, in fact, adhere to typical social decorum, Cyrus had gone along with it nonetheless. It was becoming abundantly clear that Guzma would not be relenting with his questions.

At the very least, the man-child had calmed down considerably since his meltdown earlier, though Cyrus suspected it had something to do with encroaching exhaustion as well.

"So, ah–" Cyrus, were he a lesser man, might have heaved a heavier sigh as the pest once again started up in his questionings…as he had _every time_ he entered the same room as the soul (human) resident of the Distortion World. "You s'posed ta be a big bad ghost up in here, or somethin'? Ya never gave a straight answer on that."

 _That_ got the sigh out. "For that to be the case, I would have to be deceased first."

"Well, ya could'a fooled me." Guzma scoffed and crossed his arms, his action backed up by a nod from Golisopod. "So what are ya, if ya ain't dead?"

"I'm currently residing in an alternate dimension known as the Distortion World. The barrier separating worlds is especially weak here, allowing us to interact." Cyrus could see the man's eyes glossing over already. Good to see that his 'lecture voice' was still as effective as ever. "If this is truly boring you, you _are_ welcome to leave."

The response was immediate, Guzma snapping back to attention. "Whaa? Nah, nah! Ya boy ain't givin' up that easy, y'hear? I _came_ here ta see a bigass bug, an' I'm _gonna_ see a bigass bug!"

His companion clicked jovially in agreement, easily returning the high-five extended to it. Or, rather, the high-two in its case. Cyrus could almost taste bile at the back of his throat at the display of camaraderie. Such emotions were the source of all strife, after all – despite how positive they could be, it only spelled for the magnification of the negative once it arrived.

Cyrus gave a quiet scoff and averted his eyes from the duo. "I believe I've already made it quite clear the likelihood of you reaching Giratina."

"An' I already said I don't care 'bout yer stupid countin' cave rules! We're gonna find it! And then I'ma rub your smug-ass face in that fact!" Guzma snapped back vehemently before turning on his heel and storming onwards through another doorway.

Certainly not enough time passed before Guzma was right back in the room with Cyrus. The ex-Skull boss looked ready to tear his hair out as he received one of the space-man's patented, disaffected scowls. His fingers had threaded into his own curly white locks ready to tug, when a loud growl caught his attention. Guzma almost thought it was a wild pokémon at first, until Golisopod chirred and nuzzled at his side, bringing attention to the growing ache in his belly that he'd been ignoring since arriving in Sinnoh.

"Guess it's snack time for real, huh?" The bug trainer rubbed the back of his head, choosing to ignore the obvious elephant (or rather, the obnoxious specter) in the room. Golisopod gave an excited series of clicks, nudging its face into Guzma's coats in an effort to make treats appear faster. The trainer in question laughed, pushing the bug away so he could begin wiggling his arms back up his sleeves. After a few minutes of squirming, his hands reappeared, now holding a variety of Poké Beans. Golisopod chirred, please, as it began to chow down on the ones it could reach.

"Woah _woah_! Easy there! Save some fer me!" He protested, drawing the hand back a bit. Golisopod whined, but had the manners not to follow it. The trainer took the opportunity to pop a few of them into his mouth.

"Are you seriously partaking of _Pokémon treats_?"

"Don't knock it 'til ya try it, yo." Guzma replied before remembering he had been trying to ignore the other man. Well, might as well keep going now that he'd started. "'Sides, whaddaya eat over there in the Distortion-Whatever?"

"…point taken."

Guzma spared him a smug smirk, munching away at the treats. They weren't half bad for being Pokémon chow. The mildly disgusted look on Cyrus' face made it all the better.

Deciding they didn't need to get moving again right away, the white-haired man settled down against one of the boulders in the room as he ate. He was glad he only brought Golisopod with him – he didn't realize it'd take _this_ long to find that giant bug, so he'd only brought a meager amount of snackage. But like hell was he gonna throw in the towel now, they'd gone too far to just bail out! Gotta be soon, right?

"So uh…how long didja say it takes to find this thing?" Guzma ever-so-casually questioned Cyrus. The man gave him an unimpressed look before speaking.

"As I said, you would need to come across three pillars within thirty rooms in order to find Giratina." The Lecture Voice™ was back on. "The inscription at the cave's entry room signalled no different, but I see now that it's safe to assume you didn't bother to read it."

"Aight, so maybe I got a lil ahead a' myself." Guzma yawned, head starting to droop again as it had been on and off throughout his adventure in this hellish place. Golisopod gave a chirring laugh and lightly shoved Guzma's shoulder, bringing the trainer to shove his bug-type back in return. "Down, boy. Ain't like you read it either!"

"…at any rate," Cyrus continued, "There possibly were more precise directions described in the text. Unfortunately, the flow of time that has managed to overpower the distortion, coupled with the cave's climate, have left it largely illegible. It doesn't help that the words themselves are of an antiquated dialect–"

As Cyrus continued lecturing about the oh-so- _fascinating_ distortion abilities of TurnBack Cave, Guzma was finding it harder and harder to focus. The cave around him seemed to blur as he blinked, long and slow. He was still cold as he had been since arriving in Sinnoh, but…

Another yawn escaped the former boss, his ever-loyal Golisopod picking up on what was happening faster than Guzma was, and pulled its trainer close, allowing the exhausted punk to rest against its soft underbelly. Guzma's face scrunched into a frown as he began to fall into unconsciousness, the droning sound of Cyrus' voice strangely soothing in a sense. Looks like the troll had _some_ use, at the very least.

"…this isn't the place to take a nap."

Guzma jolted awake with a sharp gasp, his heart suddenly racing a mile a minute as he tried to figure out both where the fuck he was and what was going on. "Wh- I'm up! I'm up? Whassit-?"

Golisopod gave a gentle series of clicks and wrapped its arms more firmly around Guzma, pulling the white-haired man back down to a resting position. Guzma continued to gasp for a few moments before finally catching his breath, getting his bearings, and shooting a heated glare at Cyrus. The other man remained steady under the gaze.

"I repeat: this isn't the place to take a nap. Time may run awry in this dimension, but I can still notice its passing in yours. You've been here for hours. Leave."

Wriggling free of Golisopod's grasp, Guzma sat up, his hunched position further emphasizing the dark shadows under his eyes. "Lllissten...fancy...hologram...dude. I had a LONG trip ta get here, and I'm still fuckin' jetlagged, aight? So piss off and lemme sleep."

"Sleep elsewhere. Too many ghost types dwell here for you to be letting your guard down like this." Cyrus somehow seemed to portray slight urgency in his words, despite never varying his tone or facial expression. Or maybe Guzma was just more tired than he realized.

"Pff, you should watch it, almost sounds like you care. 'Sides, Golisopod could take 'em! Ain't that right?" The tired man grinned, giving the bug in question a few well-deserved chin scritches. It chirred contentedly in response, still obviously half-asleep.

"Suit yourself." Cyrus's eyebrows crinkled down slightly more than usual, and he turned to leave the room. He had no intention of standing around watching the fool sleep.

 _TBC_


	6. Chapter 6

Alolan man manages to scare himself, readers everywhere relate. Cyrus makes something akin to small-talk.

Is anyone else kinda miffed that Guzma never got any help with possible issues post Ultra Space venture?

* * *

Despite his incredible exhaustion, Guzma hadn't managed to fall back to sleep after Cyrus left the room. It seemed that the eerie silence that spread through the cave, and the constant _maybe_ -teasing – he could never be too sure – about ghost Pokémon from Cyrus had left him on edge. Begrudgingly, Guzma realized he'd either have to leave the cave or get Cyrus to go off on another tangent to get any _real_ sleep. And you can best be believing he had no intention of the former taking place before he'd seen that legendary Centipede-zilla!

A few Poké Beans were removed from his inner layers and split between himself and Golisopod as the two continued walking, himself seeing no point in sitting around if he couldn't get any rest out of it. Golisopod had, as usual, inhaled its beans, but Guzma took his time chewing this round, knowing he actually only had a small handful left. Not that he had any intention of letting Golisopod know – there was no need worrying the big lug about it.

It had been some…ambiguous amount of time since they'd left the room he'd fallen asleep in, and Guzma was actually rather shocked that he'd not run into Cyrus again since then. It was almost a little unnerving, really.

He'd been happy to find that he'd found a room with a pillar in it, vaguely recalling Cyrus mentioning something about needing to find those to get to Giratina. On top of that, the rooms they were traversing now, though repeated, were still different than the rooms they'd been stuck in upon first entering.

To be honest, with the only things breaking the quiet being the occasional, distorted cries of Pokémon from unseen distances, along with the entire ambiance of the cave, it was really pulling his mind back to his experience in Ultra Space. He would hardly be surprised at this point if one of those Nihilego creatures were floating around in the caverns somewhere – they'd definitely fit the mood.

…fuck. He should _not_ have thought of that, not when he was already getting paranoid to begin with.

Golisopod easily picked up on his growing fear and gave a worried whimper, nuzzling at his hair in attempts to distract him, which gained a startled jump from his trainer. Guzma shoved the large bug-type off with a half-hearted "'M fine, yo!", but it didn't do much to deter his Pokémon. The man's body was far too tense and jumpy for his words to be true.

Golisopod was smart, despite being spoiled, and it knew better than to believe its trainer when Guzma got like this. Giving another series of chirrs and clicks, the bug type moved its main arms to the top of its head and wiggled its claws in a crude rendition of the action a much younger Guzma had often performed when teasing Plumeria about her excessive pigtails. Realizing the implication, Guzma bit his lip before conceding to dig out his phone. Putting his best friend and former admin on speed dial had been the first thing he'd done upon getting it, and he was eternally grateful to his past self for that as his eyes darted around the room.

The phone rang four times, but felt like forever, before Plumeria answered, sounding like she'd just been woken up. Knowing his luck, she likely had. "Sup, G?"

"Ah-uhh nothin' much?" Guzma responded, now feeling stupid for calling her, even though hearing her familiar voice was already helping him calm down. "Big guy just missed ya is all, y'know how he gets." He continued over casually, rubbing the back of his head with a torn-gloved hand.

"Uh-huh…" a small shuffling could be heard, likely Plumeria sitting up more comfortably in bed. "There anything _else_ ya bug wants to tell me?"

Guzma shot a half-panicked look at Golisopod, hoping the bug type would give him something to say. Instead, his starter just pointed back at the phone with an angry chirr, demanding for its trainer to speak. "So, uh– y-yo, you seen Grunt recently? I need ya ta start kickin' his ass for us, it's cold as shit here!"

"Guz? What's- on over th-re?" Her knowing and worried tone was barely registered as the phone grew staticy.

"Plumes? YO! PLUMES!" With a few more flickers of almost-speak, the phone abruptly cut out altogether. "Hey! HEY! DAMNIT, ANSWER!" Guzma was pacing frantically by then, frustrated panic written clear on his face and in his voice.

"Swear if this is some sick prank, yo! I'm gonna–!" The ex-Boss didn't get the chance to finish his threat as his body pitched forward over a small rock he'd tripped on, having not paid attention to where he was going. The air in his lungs escaped him as he hit the ground hard, his cell spinning across the cave floor. A daunting "Call Dropped" message flashed on the screen for a moment before resuming its normal background.

Hoping against hope, Guzma scurried over to the small device in a heartbeat, redialing the number as soon as he could get a grip on it. The crackling hum of static was all that greeted him upon raising it to his ear. The young man tried again, cheap material nearly bending with the force he clutched it with, but the result was the same. No signal.

With a groan that bordered closer to a yell, the bug-trainer chucked the cell phone across the room. Having anticipated the action, his tall companion caught it before it could hit the ground, or any of the boulders dotting it. Golisopod attempted to return the item, but froze in its tracks at the reappearance of a _certain someone_.

"…I'm amazed this is only the second time I've seen you lose your temper thus far." Cyrus began after a moment, his unimpressed tone leaving Guzma torn between relief at hearing someone else's voice and annoyance that it had to be _this_ guy. "You've been here for nearly a day. Don't you suppose it's time you moved on?"

"Yeah, move on to that next Pillar-whatever." Guzma snarked before rounding on the apathetic ghost man. "And where the _fuck_ you been?"

"Hm, how strange. Did you, perchance, miss me?"

"NO!" The denial was shouted a bit too forcefully. "Just don't like people sneakin' up on me is all!"

"Of course." Cyrus rolled his eyes. "If that is the case, a tomb such as this must be paradise to you. Perhaps you should improve upon your perception – that way you will not miss the exit when you come across it."

Guzma gave the other man a weary glare at the unwelcome critique. "I toldja already, I ain't goin' nowhere without seein' that bug!"

Grabbing Golisopod by the arm, Guzma stomped the two of them through the nearest doorway, and…right back into the same room. Naturally. He gave an internal sigh at the predicament, wanting to tear his hair out at the loops they kept getting stuck in. _What am I doin'._

" _Nowhere_ seems to be exactly where you're going."

If it weren't for the fact that it was the closest the other had gotten to humor since their meeting, Guzma would have groaned. This he could work with. The cave troll had to start warming up to him sooner or later, right? Maybe then he could get the guy to help them out!

"...SO…uh," The bug specialist blanked for a moment, trying to think up something to talk about. It wasn't often he tried to plan for conversations – years of being head of a gang meant not caring about how most people saw you, as long as they feared you. These days, though, it seemed to keep happening more and more. "Hhhow long ya been out here, anyway? You get lost, too?"

"Hardly." The answer was short and clipped, planting a seed of doubt in Guzma's plan before Cyrus continued on. "I was brought here against my will. I remained for…personal reasons. It's been a while, I'd assume. Time barely flows in the Distortion World – this place being the exception, seeing as how thin the barrier is here."

"Huh, that's…neat?" He hoped it wasn't too painfully obvious how little he knew what to make of that. "Ya hang 'round here a lot, then?"

Cyrus looked like he wouldn't be responding at all for a moment, before the toll of living completely isolated from anyone willing or capable of basic conversation seemed to win out. "You could say that."

"Welllll~, have ya noticed any 'nifty tricks' ta navigating this hellhole?" Guzma leaned in slightly at the question, his hope for advice blatant in his actions.

"Indeed. None of which I'm particularly inclined to share with you, mind."

Well, there goes _that_ plan. Guzma huffed in annoyance as he swiveled to walk back out of the room. And…right back into the room, on the other side. Cyrus was giving him the usual deadpan expression. Not to be deterred, he stalked back to the same doorway as before. "Quit yer starin'!"

So caught up in his frustration, he didn't notice when Golisopod stopped following him. It chose instead to stand by the other man's ethereal form, watching its trainer with concern. Was Guzma aware he was just going through the same door repeatedly? Should it point this out? This was certainly shaping up to be an odd day for the two of them. The two humans continued to trade short quips as the white-haired one continued to loop, the majority of which consisted of Guzma snapping at Cyrus.

Guzma grit his teeth as he once more entered the same room he'd left, only to see the notorious cave troll and his own concerned Golisopod once again. His mouth opened, as if to start yelling like all the other times, before he simply deflated. What was the point? He let out a heavy sigh and gave a short halfhearted wave. "Alola."

"A...lola?" Cyrus raised a brow, obviously confused by the greeting, but Guzma didn't catch it.

"Nice t' know ya got _some_ manners." The ex-skull boss scoffed before continuing on through the chosen door, managing to enter a different room this time. A confused Cyrus was left behind with the now-distressed bug-type.

 _TBC_


	7. Chapter 7

Wanna mention again for y'all. Reading this fic is a much fuller experience over on AO3 [it's also a lot farther ahead chapter wise] just go to AO3 site and input that works/9328184/ after the url. Or you can search for the fic by title, same name, yo.

Cyrus does _not_ care for Bug-Types. Guzma needs a break and to GTFO of this cave, Lusamine and Nihilego really fucked him up.

 _So remember how we said Guzma shoulda had some psychological help after Ultra Space? Yeah, that._

* * *

When Guzma didn't reappear entering the room once again, Cyrus and Golisopod exchanged looks for a long, awkward moment. Just as suddenly as it stilled, Golisopod rushed towards the door its trainer had gone through.

"Wait–" Cyrus's words fell on deaf ears as the bug-type charged through the doorway, hurtling right back into the room from the other side. It repeated the action a second time, and then a third, before falling to its knees near the center of the room. A wailing sound echoed through the cavern as it realized the full gravity of the predicament, sending a beseeching look to Cyrus. The man grimaced at the odd, plus-shaped eyes that were now focused intensely on him. _Bugs are…still repulsive, it seems._

Seeing it wouldn't be receiving any help from the man, Golisopod gave another shrill wail as it continued to dash through the doorways. Its shrieks were warped by the distortion as it looped, creating a cacophonous uproar in the room.

Cyrus cringed at the increase of noise from the panicked Pokémon, internally cursing the idiot now traipsing around further in the cave for leaving his, _clearly_ too-spoiled-to-function, Pokémon behind.

It took Guzma a solid twelve seconds to realize that he'd managed to get into a different room this time around. To say he felt like crying with joy would be an understatement. And another one of the Pillar rooms at that! Things were really starting to look up now.

"Yo, check it! We don't need some cave troll tellin' _us_ where ta go!" When his exclamation wasn't met with an equally exuberant response, he looked over to Golisopod. Or, rather, the empty space where Golisopod _should've_ been.

Dread settled hard in his stomach as the situation sunk in, the familiar taste of bile rose in the back of his throat. Daring to hope, he spun around and dashed back through the archway, only to be faced by an entirely _new_ room. Of course. Of _fucking_ course! The first time he _doesn't_ want to progress in this shithole, and he does it without breaking a sweat! His anger continued to rise as this new string of luck took him to yet _another_ new room at the next doorway.

Guzma grit his teeth, raising his fist to let his anger out on the nearby wall, when an echoey trilling sound caught his ear. His blood ran cold. He couldn't have known, and certainly didn't even consider, that it was only the voice of his own Pokémon crying out for him. But while in the distortion of the cave, the sound left only a single possible owner for that noise in his mind: Nihilego. _Fuck._

He needed to get out of here. _Now_ ! There was no way in hell he was going back near those things, especially not without his partner– who he really, _really_ needed to get back to. Guzma could feel a numb static descending on his brain, his breathing growing labored. Or was it too frequent? Either way, the air was too thick. Thick with poisons and other chemicals that those _things_ thrived on. Was there even any air left in this place? What about Golisopod? Where was- (oh right. In the ball. Always in the ball. _It's unprofessional to have Pokémon running about like that,_ she'd said. She was right, definitely. She was always right.)

The next room was a repeat of the first, then a new one after that. Guzma's steps were heavy, too slow. Or maybe not slow enough? He wasn't even sure anymore. Was he even still walking? Or had an Ultra Beast already snatched him up, and was carrying him away? Shit–

Terror won out for once as he ran through the ruins, the panic swallowing him whole.

Cyrus massaged his temples as the bug-type went on with its screeching, the dissonant noise being audible regardless of what room he moved to. There was no escaping _this_ headache, it seemed, not with how it kept looping back to the same place. With a sigh, he resigned himself to… _helping_.

If it had been a dark type, he might have been able to effectively engage it in a sort of conversation. So then…what to do? He'd had to communicate mainly through movement to his Gyarados when it had first evolved, perhaps this would be no different?

Waiting for the Pokémon to pause for a moment, Cyrus cleared his throat to get its attention. Once its (still _very_ unnecessarily) plus-shaped eyes were back on him, he moved to one of the doorways and stood by it. The bug seemed to get the message, cautiously walking up to and through him to exit. Startled clicking met his ears when he followed suit, the other apparently not expecting to find a new room. It rounded on him in a heartbeat with those ( ** _repulsive_** ) eyes again, giving him no choice but to look away if he wanted to ignore it.

He moved to another door – this time, the one on the opposite side of the room. Golisopod curiously trailed behind, hesitating for a moment before entering. The next instruction was met with fervent enthusiasm as it finally caught on to what Cyrus was doing, charging through at full steam. The ethereal man nearly felt the need to move out of the way as it barreled by him.

The lack of white-haired, obnoxious man was…slightly unsettling as the two forged ahead. Surely Guzma hadn't solved the entire cave? The foreign, oddly dressed man, had been stuck in the same room for hours! As Cyrus and Golisopod steadily approached the last Pillar, though, it became apparent that he _had_ – though not for any good reason, if the man-child being curled up on the ground was any indication.

Cyrus could feel something flickering as he analyzed the scene, muscle memories more than conscious thought matching up to the sight of the figure on the ground. Golisopod's soft clicks took a seat in the background as he noticed the rock its trainer was holding. It was still sharp enough to injure, even if the hands holding it were shaking.

The clicks turned into alarmed chirrs as Cyrus stalked forward, the action having the intended consequences – the rock sailed through his form effortlessly. What he hadn't expected, however, was for Guzma to suddenly leap to his feet, nor did he anticipate for the bug-type to immediately tackle its trainer the moment he was unarmed.

Muffled yells spewed out from where Golisopod had him pinned, sickening terror lurched through Guzma as he thrashed to get away. "No! Nonono! Not again! Not today!" He was _not_ going to be Beast chow!

Guzma managed to wriggle his arms free of the creature's grasp, and did the only thing he could think to at this point. He fought. Fists striking the hardened carapace of the being which held him pinned. All the force his exhausted and overly-tired self could manage. If he was going down, Guzma was damn well sure he was going fighting! _Fist fighting is no way to behave in polite society._ The bug-trainer froze up in an instant at the memory that rose in his mind. She wouldn't approve of this. _I'm gonna die..._

Golisopod took the beating, its face contorted in worry and concentration. Its arms, all six of them, remained tightly wrapped around its trainer as the man thrashed and yelled, borderline screaming in his panic. Eventually, as Golisopod knew would happen, Guzma stopped. Though the sudden end to the tantrum was atypical, the bug was glad that Guzma had quieted, and thus it didn't care right then for the reason. Instead it started up a rhythmic, steady chirring sound, which ever-so-slowly caught Guzma's attention and dragged the panicked man out of his memories, back to reality.

Cyrus refrained from intervening, trusting the bug to not crush its trainer to death. He backed off as they scuffled, needing time to withdraw from the scene – it was too familiar, too unnerving. Memories were bubbling up, ones that he had meticulously stashed away in the back of his mind, intending for them to never again see the light of day. Taking a deep breath, he forced them back down again, drowning them as best he could. Just in time for Guzma to return to them, shakily sitting up with much help from his Pokémon.

Neither man said a word.

 _TBC_


	8. Clip! Read More on AO3

**This will be the last chapter posted here!** To keep reading Cave Troll, check us out on AO3!

 **Go to AO3's homepage and add this to the end of the url:** /works/9328184/

* * *

After the incident, which both men continued to pretend hadn't happened, Cyrus knew this needed to end. The other had been lingering in the cave for far too long – it was time for Guzma to leave. He wanted to get to Giratina's resting place, did he not? If that was what it would take, then Cyrus would, for once, be happy to help.

Guzma had remained on the floor with Golisopod, content for the moment to just sit with his bug. When Cyrus opened his mouth to speak he was met with a hand raised in a stop motion.

"Don't wanna hear it, yo. I ain't leaving 'til I see that bug." The grumbled comment was expected, if ironic.

"I am aware… Which is why I suppose I will… _help_ you." The word 'help' was spat like Slandit venom. Several moments of silence passed before Guzma's brain caught up with what Cyrus was saying.

"Wait, what?" The surprised outcry was only matched by Golisopod's accompanying chirr. "Hold up–"

"Do not force me to repeat it." Cyrus cut him off before he could even try to protest. "I am only assisting in order to get you _out_ of my home."

While Golisopod perked up at the offer, Guzma sighed and slouched back against the bug-type, rubbing at his eyes. "Lemme get this straight– ya let us run around here for what, hours? A day? And _now_ you wanna help us?!"

 **Read More on AO3 [** /works/9328184/ **]**


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